Testing The Waters
Ross and Toby had an early morning skate down to the IGA, conveniently located just down the road, to treat us with some fresh bread for brekky. Our plan was to hit the beach early but once Ross had heard the weather report, our departure became suddenly urgent. He’d heard that rain was on its way and was insistent we make the most of the sunshine while it lasted. We have a love/hate relationship with the weatherman in our family, Toby especially doubtful about the accuracy of the daily forecast. He takes it with a grain of salt. This attitude rubbed off this morning and with the blue sky so vivid and imminent rain looking unlikely, the pace with which everyone got up and ready to go, didn’t quite match the expediency that Ross was hoping for.
Eventually, much to Ross’ delight, we got out the door. We made our way down to the little wooden bridge and crossed over to Dalmeney Beach. The surf beach wraps around into a pretty lagoon, with the clearest water you’ve ever seen. It was a tad nippy but just so nice to swim in. The tide was roaring in and the current was fierce. If we popped ourselves in up the surf end, we could drift at a cracking pace, all the way around the corner and back under the bridge. It was so much fun!
After brushing the sand off and freshening up, we headed in the direction of the cute little town of Central Tilba, this time with Molly at the wheel. Since we were visiting Ross’ mum later today (who is in her 80s and extra-vulnerable to Covid) we decided we should get ourselves some Covid tests just to be on the safe side and to make her feel safe. We picked some up on the way. The chemist had a pack of 5 that were all the same and went in your mouth and then a single test that was of the up-the-nose variety. Ross volunteered to do the up-the-snozz test, getting started straight away and the rest of us began swotting the instructions. The instructions read that we couldn’t eat, drink, have brushed our teeth, or chewed gum in the last half hour. As I read this I was swigging on my water bottle. Sam was too. Oh bummer. We’d have to wait another half hour before we could do our tests. Toby, Molly and Maisy got to work on theirs, placing the little spit-catcher onto their tongues. I set a two minute timer and then it was an anxious wait, just like a pregnancy test, to see if there would be one or two lines show up in the little window on the side.
Our first stop in Central Tilba was the Bodalla Cheese Shop, with all sorts of exotic cheeses on offer to sample. Without even thinking, I was drawn magnet-like to the tasting plate, re-living my childhood visits to the Royal Easter Show, I grabbed some tasty morsels on toothpicks and popped them in my mouth. I heard a perplexed Sam, from up the back of the shop, exclaiming: “What are you doing Mum?!” and as I felt the basil, sundried tomato, garlic, pistachio camembert, with the dukkah crust (or something equally fancy) descending down into my throat towards the point of no return, it dawned on me that I’d now have to wait another half hour before I could administer my Covid test. Oops.
The main street of Central Tilba is lined with colourful cottages, brightly dotted with potted plants, healthy hedges and sprawling jacaranda trees. With all the small country town staples you’d expect, like a lolly shop, an icecream shop, a candle shop, an incense-filled hippy clothes shop and an old post office. This town had more character than most. The Dromedary Pub looked like a good spot for lunch and had a great beer garden out the back. The locals greeted us warmly, welcoming us by holding up their beers, kept cool by stubby holders they’d brought from home. Unfortunately I still had to do my Covid test. The idea was to administer the test subtly and try not draw attention to myself but to start the test you are instructed to “cough deeply 3 times into your own mouth. (sounds gross I know). Three loud coughs and my cover was blown already. Seeing the ridiculousness of the situation meant I also got the giggles…with the stick in my mouth (and the added level of difficulty in trying desperately not to dribble in public). What a debacle. When I had literally drawn the attention and eyes of every other patron in the pub and was about to be evicted for threatening the peace, Maisy signalled that the (long) two minutes were up. Thank goodness! Fortunately my kids don’t embarrass too easily.
And now for the good news: none of us has Covid.
On the way home, we stopped off at Narooma Golf Course so Ross could show the boys the notorious 3rd hole, aka Hogan’s Hole, named after Paul Hogan, who put Narooma on the map when he famously filmed a tv commercial at that spot. It looks impossible to me - the tee-off going out over a big chasm, flanked by cliffs, that drops straight down to the ocean. You can barely see the green from the tee. I can only imagine the mountain-load of golf balls that must have gathered down there in the depths, over the years. Ross never gave us a straight answer when we asked him if any of them were his.
Sam and Maisy took the drone out again after lunch and Ross and his big sister had a lovely walk together this afternoon to chat and catch-up. before we all descended on their place for a delicious BBQ dinner. It was so great to see everyone after so long and nice to see that Helen was settling in. We also got to meet their enthusiastic dogs - all EIGHT of them!
Oh. and that rain and the huge storm that was predicted never did eventuate.
PS Annette enlightened us on what the meringue trees are called. FYI, they are Golden Cyprus Pines.
